


Play That Song

by RemyCampbell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confused Castiel, Dean being fluffy, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Songfic, Sweet Dean, castiel doesnt understand that reference, train
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 19:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16687519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemyCampbell/pseuds/RemyCampbell
Summary: Castiel is confused by song lyrics. Dean tries to explain. Based on the Train song « Play That Song ».





	Play That Song

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, AO3! This fic has been rolling around in my head since the Spring and I decided to finally write it down. It’s a slightly AU fic set in season 8 of Supernatural. Imagine a world where Cas actually stuck around with the boys, where he followed through on his whole “I’m gonna become a hunter!” thing. I suppose in that world, the whole Naomi problem would still rear its ugly head at some point, but for the purposes of this fic, I won’t get into it. (I guess if y’all want a sequel where I do, let me know.)

Dean sighed contentedly as he entered the motel room. Living in the bunker had provided him with a stability he had never before known. Still, as much as he loved having a place to call home, he would always retain a sort of nostalgic fondness for crashing in a cheap room after a job well done.

"I call the shower first," Dean declared as he dropped his duffel on one of the beds. The spirit they were hunting had pushed them all around, but it was only Dean who had been pushed into a soot-filled fireplace. Sam had openly snickered and even Castiel seemed amused, laughter dancing through his bright blue eyes.

"Yeah, you'd better, Dean," Sam agreed, settling down in the room's single armchair with his laptop. "They'd probably charge extra for getting soot on all their furniture."

Dean grabbed sweatpants and a clean t-shirt from his bag and headed into the small bathroom, choosing not to reply to his brother beyond a muttered, "bitch". Sam's answering shout of "jerk!" was clearly audible through the thin door.

When he emerged fifteen minutes later, the soot washed down the drain and the tension in his muscles eased by the hot water, it was to the sight of his two favorite people winding down after yet another dangerous job. Sam was still in the armchair, listening to some awful contemporary music without headphones and idly surfing the web. Dean felt a warm smile spread across his face at the familiar sight. But it was Castiel’s position that made Dean’s entire body flood with happiness.

After coming back from Purgatory without Castiel, Dean was sure he would never see the angel again. He had been devastated and wracked with guilt, sure that he had failed his friend just as he had failed so many others he had cared about.

But Castiel had returned- though he was still a bit vague on exactly how he'd managed it- and had assured Dean that it wasn't the hunter's fault he had been left behind. Dean had been overjoyed to have his friend back and eagerly anticipated cases when they would require the angel's expertise so they could call on him. Castiel had gone a step further and told the brothers that he wanted to work with them more frequently. In fact, he had announced that he wanted to be their "third wheel".

Dean had laughed at the angel's poor phrasing; as hard as he tried, Castiel still often struggled with human interaction. But inside, he was radiating with happiness. Over the years, Castiel had become his dearest friend. Dean wished that they could spend more time together, but Castiel was an Angel of the Lord. He had more important things to worry about than a lonely hunter who got into trouble more often than not and drank too much. Besides, working with the Winchesters was never a particularly safe choice and Dean knew that Castiel had already suffered terribly for his closeness to the brothers. Dean didn't dare ask Castiel to work a case with them unless they truly needed his input, but he couldn't bring himself to stop hoping for those opportunities with each new job.

Now, it seemed that Castiel was choosing to stay with the Winchester brothers, and not just during hunts, as Dean had assumed. Despite occasional disappearances to "handle angel-related matters", Castiel had joined their little family full time. He rode in the back seat of Baby. He joined them at roadside diners. He stayed with them in motel rooms, even though "I do not require sleep, Dean. I am still an angel of the lord and this vessel is maintained by my grace."

Tonight, Castiel was sprawled across the bed closest to the window, his trench coat hanging in the small closet next to Sam's corduroy jacket. When the younger Winchester relocated from the armchair to bed, Castiel would likely swap places with him and spend the night buried in an ancient text. Dean stood in the bathroom doorway for a long moment- too long, a part of his mind chided- enjoying the sight of his friend so obviously at ease.

“If you’re soot-free now, you can stop hiding in the bathroom,” Sam pointed out loudly, startling Dean from his musings. Dean huffed in annoyance and flopped onto the unoccupied bed. It was a good thing that his brother could read him so well; their strong connection had saved both of their lives on countless hunts. But when it came to Castiel, he wished Sam was a little less observant.

He had tried to engage Dean several times about his feelings for the angel, especially after everything that happened with the Leviathan. True to form, Dean managed to dance around the “chick flick moments”, but the questions still struck too close to things that Dean really didn’t want to address, even to himself.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had enveloped their little family. "I don't understand this song."

"Me neither, Cas. No idea why Sam voluntarily listens to this modern crap."

"Hey!" Sam interjected. "You're not driving, so now you have to shut your cake hole."

Dean was about to launch into an explanation of why Sam's contemporary music should never be played, regardless of circumstances, and to lament that his greatest failing in raising his baby brother was that he hadn't been able to teach him good music, but he was interrupted by Castiel.

"No, I wasn't criticizing Sam's music choice, Dean. I think there is value in all types of music; each one shows a different facet of humanity, while also illustrating that the desires and fears that drive them have remained much the same through the centuries. I meant precisely what I said. I don't understand the meaning of this song's lyrics."

"Oh," Dean mumbled. “Hang on and let me listen. I didn’t actually catch the lyrics. Sammy, could you start it over?”

**Play that song  
** The one that makes me go all night long  
The one that makes me think of you  
That's all you gotta do 

**Hey, mister DJ when you gonna spin it  
** My baby's favorite record she been waiting for a minute  
She invited all her friends and I'm buying all the rounds  
And they're all dolled up  
DJ please don't let me down  
When you gonna play that song, now  
When you gonna earn that pay  
When you gonna play that song and make my day 

**She said, play that song  
** The one that makes me go all night long  
The one that makes me think of you  
That's all you gotta do  
Hey, play that song  
The one the makes me stay out till dawn  
The one that makes me go, ooh  
That's all you gotta do (hey, hey, hey, hey) 

**Hey, Mr. Guitar  
** When you gonna strum it  
My girl just heard this song and you should play it 'cause she loves it  
Can you get me off the hook, get them fingers picking now  
I'll throw some money in your cup  
Mister, please don't let me down  
When you gonna play that song, now  
Why you gotta hesitate  
When you gonna play that song and make my day 

**She said, play that song  
** The one that makes me go all night long  
The one that makes me think of you  
That's all you gotta do  
Hey, play that song  
The one the makes me stay out till dawn  
The one that makes me go, ooh  
That's all you gotta do  
Oh, wait till you see my baby move  
Move, move, wait till you see my baby move  
Move, move, oh, come on now 

**Play that song  
** The one that makes me go all night long  
The one that makes me think of me  
That's all you gotta do  
Hey, play that song  
The one the makes her stay out till dawn  
The one that makes her go, ooh  
That's all you gotta do  
That's all you gotta do  
That's all you gotta do  
That's all you gotta do 

Although Dean would never admit it to Sam, he didn’t hate the song. The melody was warm and the lyrics were gentle. Comforting. It was a song about finding home in the presence of another person, of being reminded of them by little things, and of wishing for small things that would make the person smile. The song told the story of Dean’s love of apple pies, or the way he sometimes smiled at strangers in tan trench coats.

But how could he explain all of that to a socially clueless, infinitely old being?

“It’s about feeling connected to something because of who it makes you think about. The dude singing is talking about his girl’s favorite song. He wants the DJ to play it because it makes her happy, and whenever he hears it he thinks about her.”

“But the song in question has no direct relation to her?” Castiel asked. Dean sighed; this was going to be a long conversation, and it was clear that Cas wasn’t going to just let it drop by saying he didn’t understand the reference and moving on.

He’d actually been doing that a lot less frequently, Dean had noticed. Since getting back from Purgatory and teaming up with the Winchesters full time, Castiel had seemed to be putting more effort into trying to understand human social cues and cultural norms. It was surprising and at times like this, sort of frustrating, but always made a tight, warm feeling blossom in Dean’s chest. Every time Castiel made an effort to understand human interactions, it seemed to Dean as though he was anchoring himself closer to them, as though he was saying, “this is my world now and I want to be comfortable in it.” Castiel was always a half-step out of rhythm, but each question was a new attempt to learn the song of human life. Dean was happy to teach him.

In this case, rather literally.

“No, Cas, it’s not about her. Just for the guy singing, this is ‘her song’.”

“But millions of people hear this song, Dean. While I understand how it can be interpreted differently by different listeners, I don’t understand how it can evoke memories of a specific person who has no connection to the artist.”

It was late. Dean was tired. Maybe he’d smacked his head on some bricks when he got pushed into the fireplace earlier. All of these were excuses he tried to tell himself afterwards.

“Get up,” he ordered gruffly, walking to the small open area between the bathroom and the closet. Castiel walked toward him without hesitation, though his head was tilted to the side as it always was when he was confused. “Sammy, start the song again.”

Sam also obeyed without question, but Dean didn’t dare check the expression on his little brother’s face. He was sure it would be nothing like Castiel’s confusion. If he had to take a guess- (which he didn’t want to do, because he really didn’t want to think about it at all)- Dean would imagine Sam’s face to be something between a knowing smirk and a shit-eating grin.

What they were doing could barely be called dancing. The space was too small and Castiel had absolutely no rhythm. But Dean swayed them back and forth to the music, even managing to twirl Castiel in a very clumsy move that resulted in both of their toes getting stepped on. When the song ended, Dean let go of Castiel immediately and flopped back onto his bed. Castiel remained standing on their impromptu dance floor, looking even more confused than he had before. He opened his mouth, clearly about to ask for further explanation, when Dean cut him off.

“The next time you hear that song, Cas, you’ll get it.” Then, before either of his companions had a chance to add further commentary, he continued. “Okay, I’m out for the night. Good hunt.” He switched off his bedside lamp and rolled over to bury his face in a pillow.

And of course he wasn’t blushing.

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

**There we have it! Part 1 of a 3 part story. I believe this will be the longest section, but we shall see.**

**If you liked this, PLEASE do me a favor and check out[my friend’s Endure For Kindness (E4K) page](https://www.crowdrise.com/o/en/campaign/bee-4-k?utm_source=dash-card-cr&utm_platform=twt&utm_device=mobile)!!! This is an annual fundraiser by Random Acts and this year all of your SPN favorites are working to raise money to fight childhood hunger.**

**Emily Rose is doing a totally bee-themed fundraiser, possibly at the request of Castiel. Please check out her page, share it, and donate if you can. She has some pretty cool prizes!!**

 


End file.
